


The Study of Objects in Motion

by brilliantengineer



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Other, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-07 14:10:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7717777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantengineer/pseuds/brilliantengineer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collective of little one-shots in day to day life scenarios.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Last Call

They arrive at the Fifth Avenue Market at exactly 10:55pm in coveralls and fresh from a bust.

Erin’s ponytail is falling loose, her bangs a mess, a soaked-in pile of ectoplasm dripping on her shoulder, and there’s something exhausted in her expression. Abby’s knee is ripped open and scraped a little through the skin underneath her jumpsuit, her face red and sweaty, with a bit of do-not-fuck-with-me in her eyes. Patty looks to have born the brunt of some ghost’s ectoprojection as she drips ghost slime on the linoleum and apologizes profusely to the sales associate running for the mop. Holtzmann, proton pack dangling from her arm and just four inches from dragging on the floor, has her glasses hanging from one ear lobe, most of her blonde hair falling out of its bun and pompadour, and one of her boots untied, but her eyes look alive. Kevin, trailing behind, looks a bit shell-shocked, but the half-delirious, half-lazy grin perks back up at the corners of his lips whenever he catches someone looking at him.

“Okay,” Erin stops, grabs a basket, and turns to rally her troops. “Abby, go find us some sandwiches. Patty, first aid supplies.”

“On it.” Patty heads off in the direction of the first aid supplies.

“You two, follow me. We’re going to go get ourselves some snacks.”

“Oooh, can I pick something?” Kevin asks.

“If he gets to pick something, I get to pick something,” Holtz protests.

“Fine. You can each pick one thing,” Erin sighs, remembering now why she does this alone.

“Can it be two?” Holtzmann asks.

“No. This is a get-in-get-out trip.”

“Fiiiiiine. Just one.” Holtzmann hoists the proton pack back up onto her shoulder.

“Take Kevin with you and don’t let him out of your sight!” Erin calls after them as they head off in the direction of the chips and candy. She can always count on that with them. She heads to produce to find something fresh and with undoubtedly more nutritional value than whatever they’ll find for themselves.

Five minutes later, Erin, Patty, and Abby are waiting near the checkout for Holtzmann and Kevin to return.

“Where are they, this knee is killing me,” Abby complains.

“You want me to ask someone to page ‘em?” Patty asks.

There are race car noises coming from an aisle down a few feet and Erin knows what it is before it even comes.

“BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRN-ERRRRRRRRRRRRRRN-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYRRRRR! Hey look, there they are.” Kevin runs up to the rest of the team, pushing Holtzmann in a cart full of Pringles and gummy bears. 

“You guys, I said one thing,” Erin moans.

“Technically we each picked one thing. I wanted gummy bears, She wanted peninsulas–”

“Parabolas.”

“Yeah, that. That’s two things, isn’t it?” Kevin asks.

“One individual item each, let’s go,” Erin waves them toward the line.

Holtzmann clumsily steps out of the cart, fishing her proton pack from beneath the entire inventory of Pringles and takes a can of the original ones from the top. Kevin plucks a bag of gummy worms from the pile in the baby seat, and the team checks out. At the cashier’s request, all of them sign a receipt and head out to the ECTO-2. From the backseat, Holtz fiddles with the radio for the entire duration of the ride back to the fire house. 

Needs tended to, they collectively sink onto the sofa in front of the TV to unwind, as they’ve fallen into the habit of doing of late. Patty and Kevin fall asleep first, then Abby, until Holtzmann and Erin are the last men left standing.

Holtzmann fishes out four Pringles, two for herself and two for Erin. She pinches hers between her lips like a duck bill, making a delirious Erin laugh. She links her arms with Holtzmann’s and rests her head on her shoulder enjoying the feeling of validation and purpose that comes from a successful bust.


	2. And It's Beginning to Snow

Jillian Holtzmann wakes at 2:48 in the morning two days from Christmas Eve on a year when the winter has been unseasonably warm. The night sky has a brunette glow about it that she knows comes from clouds–smog or naturally occurring. And then she sees it. And she’s fumbling for her glasses and scrambling quietly for the window.

It’s snowing.

Fat, fluffy flakes of snow, dusting the streets with a thick blanket. “Erin,” she whispers at first. “Erin. get up.”

“What time is it?” she mumbles, turning over.

“Get up, come on!” she shakes Erin a little harder without success. Finally, she gets out of bed and tosses Erin’s coat at her before disappearing down the hall to wake Patty and Abby.

Minutes later, the four of them are running down the stairs and outside like eight year old kids on a snow day, enchanted and mystified by the Christmas gift mother nature has offered.

A car wooshes by, and the sound of its tires splashing through the slush makes Holtzmann grin. Such a satisfying sound!

Patty is the one who starts it all. She pitches a snowball at Abby’s head, knocking her glasses lopsided on her face. She packs a ball and aims for Patty, but misses and hits Erin’s shoulder instead, and after that, no woman is safe.

Pajamas get soaked, hair dusted with snowflakes, and the sound of their laughter echoes down the astonishingly quiet street. Holtzmann thinks about how spontaneous little events like these become especially treasured memories. Erin thinks about snowball fights with the neighborhood kids her parents used to pay off, how they used to gang up on her until her cheeks were raw, and how much better this is. Abby thinks about how much less time adults spend being frivolous, and at what point children become adults who have no time for things like this. Patty though. Patty thinks about how she has waited her whole life to be in on something like this. She thinks about how crazy it is that she thought she was joining some kind of book club, and how although it wasn’t what she planned on, it turned out to be the best thing ever to happen to her.

Holtzmann drags Erin over to a vacant space and pulls her down where they make snow angels, holding hands as they stare upward at the flakes falling between the building. Patty and Abby make a small snowman on the cement railing, complete with little wire arms and a face made with nuts and bolts found inside.

They collapse on the front steps of the building, giggly, tired, and cold. Holtzmann lifts Erin’s arm and drapes it around her shoulders.

“Looks like it’s going to be a white Christmas after all,” Patty says.

“Anybody want cocoa?” Abby asks, picking herself up off of the cold step. “I’m making.”

The crew follows her inside where the snowball fight continues with marshmallows launched at each other over the counter and delirious 3am giggles. Holtzmann comes out of the bedroom she and Erin share wearing their duvet cover around her head and shoulders like a little ghost. After the mugs are emptied and in the sink, they make their way back to their rooms.

As Erin drifts back toward sleep, Holtzmann watches the steady rise and fall of her chest as her breathing slows. She finds Erin’s hand under the blankets and squeezes it in hers, content to watch while the person she cares about more than herself gets the sleep she’s too awake to get herself.


End file.
